


Working Conditions

by MostRemote



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh!
Genre: Boss/Employee Relationship, Dirty Talk, M/M, Oral Sex, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-30
Updated: 2012-05-30
Packaged: 2017-11-06 07:26:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,868
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/416255
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MostRemote/pseuds/MostRemote
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After hours, Kaiba has taken to expecting certain additional services from Isono - although Isono is not quite the one who'll be doing the servicing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Working Conditions

**Author's Note:**

> Additional warnings: Kaiba taking dubious sexual advantage of his employee.
> 
> Sub!Kaiba. Written for the now defunct YGOkink tumblr.

The first time, Isono had rather hoped that the whole thing had been a stress induced hallucination. The second, he rationalised that his boss was just going through some severe personal issues and he'd have it out of his system soon. The third, Isono very seriously considered turning in his notice.

He actually made it to Seto-sama's office door (several times, in fact, since he kept changing his mind half way down the corridor and backtracking) with the resignation in his hand before he decided against it. He'd been protecting Seto-sama for eight years now, since the day the kid was adopted, and when you'd seen the kind of shit that he had on the job you didn't just walk away from your employer.

Besides... It wasn't as though he _entirely_ objected to having the most eligible bachelor in Japan on his knees before him, begging to be fucked in the mouth.

“You are aware, Seto-sama,” Isono had awkwardly attempted, the day after one such occasion, after bringing his boss his second mid-morning coffee, “that there are usually certain boundaries in a, uh, employer-employee relationship?”

Seto had looked up at him as though he had just informed him that water was, indeed, wet. “I am aware, Isono,” he said icily, before lifting the coffee to his lips while somehow managing to maintain a 90wpm typing rate with his other hand.

Isono screwed up his face in embarrassment. “Of course, Seto-sama. My apologies.” Well, it wasn't as though it was impossible for Seto to be unaware of these things. The guy wasn't exactly rolling in social skills.

“You can go now,” Seto said, sounding bored, eyes flicking over the spreadsheet before him.

Isono hesitated.

Seto looked up at him with a patronising, see-how-generous-I'm-being-with-my-patience look. “ _What,_ Isono?”

“It's...” He felt flustered. This was just not the sort of conversation he had ever needed to have with an employer. “It's just that, Seto-sama, I rather think... certain activities... aren't they best reserved for, uh... Well, people you know in a non-official capacity, perhaps?”

Seto stared at him with a combination of irritation and feigned obtuseness. “If you take issue with your working conditions,” he said testily, enunciating clearly, “then kindly turn in your resignation. I will write you excellent references for your next position.” He turned back to his typing, perhaps because he was busy, or perhaps because, on some level, this was awkward for him in the same way it was awkward for Isono. “As it is, your job requires obedience and discretion. If you're dissatisfied with the position, find another.”

And that was all Isono had ever managed to get out of him on the matter.

And he says nothing in protest when, almost a week later, he's bringing Seto his fourth very-late-evening coffee (“You can't drink this much caffeine at night,” Mokuba used to complain. “It's _evening_ , not _night_ ,” Seto had argued back) and he knows, from the turned off lights and Seto's empty chair, exactly how the evening's going to go down.

He knows Seto is sitting on the couch, shrouded in absolute darkness, and he knows this because it's his job to know exactly where Seto is at any given moment. And now, apparently, it's his job to lend his employer his cock whenever he wants it, too. He pauses after he's set down the coffee, listening to the oh-so-almost inaudible footsteps of his employer walking over to him.

Seto knows Isono knows he's there, so the darkness and the creeping about is really only a formality.

“Seto-sama,” says Isono, wearily, the way one might address a wayward child, as Seto pushes him gently into his own office chair.

“Don't call me that,” Seto snaps, the last business-like tone he'll utter for the next half an hour.

“Seto-chan,” Isono says in that same weary tone, but strangely it doesn't sound quite as admonishing than the usual respectful honorific.

The CEO of KaibaCorp. looks so strange like this, sinking to his knees with his face turned up in innocent pleading; pleading for permission, pleading to be fucked on the floor of his own office. The orange lights of the skyscrapers around them light his face with dim amber, those blue eyes making the strangest conflict of colours.

“Please?” Seto says quietly, his voice so soft that Isono cannot help but be remembered of how polite and respectful Seto used to be four years ago, as a child, while Isono watched him grow up. The comparison seems incredibly disturbing.

Seto moves his head forward, ever so slightly, and turns it to the most plaintive angle, like a confused animal. “Please, sir? Please let me put it in my mouth. I'll make it so good for you.”

_God, it's just not right..._

Isono swallows. “Alright, alright.”

Seto just stares.

Isono sighs and runs a hand through his hair, leaning back. “Open your mouth, Seto-chan.” He screws his eyes shut for a moment. “Open your mouth like a good boy.”

And Seto bites his lip and then does so, his tongue sliding out between immaculate white teeth as perfect, elegant fingers snake forward to undo the zip of Isono's two thousand dollar imported suit trousers. Seto pulls down the inexpensive, practical briefs, releasing Isono's still limp penis and leaning forward that little bit more to rub it against his soft cheek, which still, even at eighteen, has never showed the slightest hint of facial hair.

This little, kittenish moan resounds from his throat as he nuzzles against Isono's cock, which is starting to stir into an erection. Seto rubs it along his cheek, gently pressing his face into Isono's pubic hair and testicles, rubbing his nose into the older man's musk and inhaling deeply. He laps out a hot, wet tongue along Isono's balls and extends the lick to his cock, drawing backwards until his mouth is at the tip, while Isono swallows a groan of satisfaction.

He's hard now, but Seto still pushes his nose and lips against his erection almost reverently, eyes half lidded and face blossoming in expectant ecstasy. He doesn't mean to tease, this is just what he likes to do. The preparation is almost as good as the act itself, but Isono's body is starting to do the thinking for him and he feels impatient.

Seto wants him to order him, Isono knows that, and as he thinks about how easy it would be to grab his employer's head in his hands and force him to take his cock he feels a swell of arousal crest within him. He doesn't give in to it, of course; incredible self-discipline is 99% of what being a bodyguard entails.

But Seto is looking up at him, eyes wide now, eyes wide and shining as he licks his lips again and again, staring up at Isono in imploring, desperate wonder.

Isono does it. “I told you to _open your mouth,_ you little-” And he grabs Seto's hair in one hand, eliciting a gratified moan of pain, and he slides himself home into the dark, wet throat.

Seto groans, deep and satisfied, his body tensing up in pleasure even as his throat starts to twitch with choking splutters. Isono holds him like that, Seto's head pressed deep against his pelvis, jerking his hips in irregular motions of fucking.

He drags Seto's head back. “You like that?”

Seto gasps, saliva sliding in a thick wet string from his mouth and coating his chin. “Yes, sir.”

“You want more?” He shakes Seto's head roughly, getting caught in the moment despite himself. “Beg me if you want it again, you fucking whore.”

Seto licks his lips once, his eyes clouded with vacant ecstasy, and his voice when he speaks is the most aroused, submissive tone that Isono has ever heard issue from his employer's mouth. “Please, sir, fuck my dirty mouth,” he says, head lolling back against the grip in his hair. His voice drops a tone, and Isono dimly wonders if this is at all difficult for him to say. “Please fuck my wet cunt of a throat.”

Isono fills his mouth again, feeling like he might just cum right there at the sound of Seto's muffled groan. He fucks him like that, taking long, slow strokes in and out, pushing as deep as he can every time, and the sounds Seto is making are more desperate and aroused than he can imagine the boy could make if you fucked him in his ass.

Isono tries to ignore how much this turns him on, just exactly how perverse this whole situation is, and why Seto-sama would even _want_ to be brought, begging and panting, to his knees in his own office, and draws back as he feels a hungry orgasm rapidly approaching.

“You're so amazing,” Seto says between the little licks he's giving the head of Isono's cock. “I'm so dirty and worthless, aren't I? I'm so...” He pauses to swallow a drop of precum. “Aren't I so dirty?”

Isono doesn't answer, just groans and leans back, waiting for Seto to take him into his mouth once more to finish him off and swallow his ejaculate, as he always does, but his edge is approaching and still Seto is just lapping at him, every flick of his tongue accompanied by a pleasured little whine, and Isono suddenly leans forward to grab his hair and drag him around his cock once more, but it's too late. He gives a long, low groan as he shudders with release, holding Seto steady as the boy closes his eyes and lets the sticky white cum cover his face in pulses that send hot, perfect shudders deep into Isono.

He releases him. Isono sits, staring and panting, at his employer knelt at his feet, his face covered in cum and his eyes now open. Seto remains motionless for a moment, perhaps rocking ever so slightly back and forth, expression calm and relaxed with strange bliss, and then he slowly, lavishly, licks his lips free of cum and then brings his tongue back inside his mouth to swallow. He licks again, with a wider diameter, and coats his chin and some of his cheeks with more saliva. Then he raises his hand to his face and wipes the remaining semen off with his hand, which he then brings to his mouth to suck on each of the fingers in turn, as if each were a little hard on that he wanted to feel inside him.

Finally clean, and still breathing heavily, Seto suddenly stands and pulls a tissue from a box on his desk, turning away to wipe his face and fingers. For a moment Isono sees his expression, calm and relaxed, as though he's let go of some heavy weight, as though he's at peace with something.

But when he throws the tissue away and turns back to Isono, who sits exhausted and stunned, his expression is the familiar, courteous, yet still slightly disdainful glare. “Thank you, Isono, that will be all,” he says smartly, smoothing down the creases in his shirt. Isono stares up at him, still a little dazed. Seto stares back, eyes cold and bored. “Do you mind, Isono? You're sitting in my chair.”


End file.
